


Penance

by gaialux



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Hell, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to be normal, post-cage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penance

On some days, Sam manages to be normal. It never lasts long and, at the end of the day, he's in bed unable to sleep. Thoughts of what he did because of _him_  are constantly at the forefront of Sam's mind. If it's not that, then it's the memories of being in the cage. Strung up, arms pulled as far apart as physically possibly — or maybe beyond, things are different down there — and the sound of his bones and muscles being torn apart. Lucifer loved him like that. Would laugh and laugh and then just watch. Just stare at him through all the days and nights.

Sam wakes up every morning to Dean just looking at him, and sometimes Sam even sees the image of Lucifer engrained over his brother's face. Sam shakes his head, pushes that thought as far away as he can, and goes about his day. He hunts and he survives, because that's all there's left to do.

They find Egyptian Gods and killer clowns, separate and come back together because that's the way it always is. Sam doesn't know he keeps going, but thinks he manages for Dean.

On one of their separate hunts, Sam gets a hotel room. He hasn't been in one of those since he was a kid, and even then it was the cheapest in the state, probably even a rent-by-the-hour if those things even exist in hotel form. He starts to think of it almost as a house. An existence where Leviathans and demons don't exist. Of course Dean finds him and doesn't mention how much it cost or how extravagant the room is.

They have sex for the first time that night. A long time coming, Sam thinks, but surprising nonetheless. Dean gets into Sam's bed (and it was _Sam's_ , because he booked a room with two queens, still has no idea why) in the middle of the night and kisses him. Just like that. Doesn't stop kissing him as he pulls off his shirt and covers Sam's chest with his lips. Down further, shoving away his boxers and swallowing his cock halfway down in one go. Sam stays there, frozen. And, for a fleeting moment, Sam thinks _home_.

 

* * *

  
  
When he came back —  _really_  came back — he sat in the shower for hours. Dean was out getting food and following a wild goose-chase Sam sent him on about a ghost or demon or something he can't even remember. He wasn't clean, could never _get_  clean. All that knowledge of what he did, of who he killed. He scrubbed at his skin until it was raw and red and even bleeding. It never helped. Lucifer never left.

Letting the soap suds burn his eyes, burn out the images. No more being strung up like meat or having chains twisted around his throat until he can't breathe. No more face of Lucifer pretending to be Jess, or Mom, or Dad, or Dean. Lucifer said he loved being Dean.

 

* * *

  
He prays. Prays for a normal life, for God to see him and tell him what he's supposed to he doing. Only he knows God doesn't care. Long before his birth, from the beginning of time, this was supposed to be his destiny. The endgame. Sam was always supposed to be Lucifer.

He was never supposed to be normal. But he keeps trying.


End file.
